


the price of beautiful

by lovegalore



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Bad management, Choi Youngjae-centric, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, GOT7 - Freeform, Hurt Choi Youngjae, Innocent Choi Youngjae, M/M, Multi, Shy Choi Youngjae, jaebum is a good leader, mental damage, youngjae deserves better., youngjae is so soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-17 00:11:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12353406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovegalore/pseuds/lovegalore
Summary: ( 'youngjae hyung, you've lost so much weight, how did you do it so quickly?' 'youngjae-ah, can you show us your vocal warm up?' ) he adores it when people comment on his weight loss, he worked so hard to get it gone. and it's okay, because he knows it was worth it. he feels thunder in his heart when the hairstylist compliments his skin, saying how much lighter it had gotten, how much prettier it was than his honey.youngjae feels alive when he is wanted.





	the price of beautiful

when youngjae begins to train, he's intimidated by everyone else in the room. his voice shakes when he announces his name to the group of fifteen trainees sitting in a circle stretching before they begin their day of dancing and singing. (it's so much more than that, the idea that everyone in this room is competing but no one wants to utter those words a beat above their breath. youngjae hates it- when managers walk in the room, the perpetual idea that he is not good enough dangles above his head, threatening to fall. it would break him- no, it would crush him. the thought of having to go back home and announce, 'hey you were right, i'm not good enough' to a family who didn't believe in his heart.)

everytime a choreographer steps foot onto the polished wood, youngjae will gulp, rock on his feet and pray that today he will nail it. the other boys around him are equally as nervous, stoic, striving to be the best, to make their families proud. youngjae will stare himself down in the mirror, telling himself that he can do this, that they were wrong. 

his heart shatters a little when he steps on the scale in the morning, he's been told that he needs to lose fifteen pounds in two weeks, showcases are coming up. so youngjae works harder, pushes his limits. he's in the dance studio before the sun is awake, bags under his eyes as his makes each hit sharper, cleaner, steadier. by the time everyone else arrives and begins to stretch, youngjae has already been there for four hours, drenched in sweat. (he always brings extra clothing to change into once everyone else comes to train.) when practice finally ends, he finds himself slipping on running shoes, blaring music through his headphones, and running three miles non-stop till he makes a full circle back to the studio. he'll dance for two more hours. finally stumbling home to find his bed where he passed out within seconds, sometimes he's too exhausted to make himself walk, so he'll use the dingy couch in the studio and find his way to sleep. 

he limits himself to 640 calories a day, all being sucked up by disgusting protein shakes, but it's okay they keep him half full, they help him lose weight. in the morning when his stomach grumbles he'll chug a bottle of water quickly, filling his body, trying to trick himself into thinking he's not hungry. youngjae is not hungry, he's not allowed to be.

they tell youngjae good job when he loses seventeen pounds in thirteen days.

***

youngjae takes a break from his grueling schedule one saturday to have a mellow day. instead of pushing himself too hard, he finds himself pliant in front of the piano, his soft fingers wavering above the keys. the studio is empty, everyone else in the company had taken a day off, issued by park jinyoung himself.

youngjae keens for these quiet moments, when he doesn't feel the overwhelming pressure of twenty other young boys fighting for a spot they don't know exists. it's around nine am, he'd slept in all the way till seven, seven. there's a journal sitting in front of him, pages after pages of hangul and messy english line the margins. youngjae often leaves little notes to himself; he'll go through them and read everything he doesn't want to forget. sometimes when the days are bad, youngjae will flip through the pages and dot them with salty tears, desperately trying to grasp why he continues this training when he could just go home. 

then again, the brown-eyed boy had already been gone for six months. he looked like a completely different person, his body had gone from soft to sharp. where a thin layer of fat once lay, youngjae had discovered a tiny waist, collarbones that jut out a bit too noticeably. but it's okay, it's okay because the camera adds ten pounds, youngjae wasn't hungry. 

his hair had been cut professionally, chopped perfectly, bangs laying against his forehead when they weren't gelled to the max, they bleached out his brown hair, only to replace it with a darker black. youngjae remembers it too clearly, the stylist noona was so excited to see his slimmed down figure, so excited to be a part of his new transformation, so excited to help create the new choi youngjae. 

sometimes, youngjae doesn't feel like he belongs to his body anymore. he's no longer at peace with gentle laughter, trying to morph himself into a concept he could not even wrap his head around. he wakes up in the morning to be ridiculed, but that's okay, it's okay because that's show business, it's okay because youngjae wants to prove that he is enough. so when youngjae doesn't feel comfortable in his own skin, he has to remind himself that he is no longer in charge. he'll never be again either- only if he were to leave it all behind, but he won't, because youngjae is not a quitter.

he finds joy when his choreographer puts him in the front row for combos. a sheepish smile will spread across his face when other trainees compliment his skill, consistently asking how to improve like he did. ( 'youngjae hyung, you've lost so much weight, how did you do it so quickly?' 'youngjae-ah, can you show us your vocal warm up?' ) he adores it when people comment on his weight loss, he worked so hard to get it gone. and it's okay, because he knows it was worth it. he feels thunder in his heart when the hairstylist compliments his skin, saying how much lighter it had gotten, how much prettier it was than his honey. 

youngjae feels alive when he is wanted.

shaking his hands, he places his docile fingers above the keys, pressing down gently, easing out soft noises. he begins to play a little bit louder, letting his mouth drop open as he began to let out a few scratchy lyrics. these quiet moments truly meant the world to youngjae, a boy who is forever soul searching but can't find a place to fit. in a world where he is constantly torn between who he is and who he's supposed to become. (youngjae feels really lonely sometimes, he can't even be his own best friend. 'youngjae, stop you can't, you can't become an idol if you're fat.') 

that's just sort of how it goes. 

dipping his fingers faster, he begins to sing once more; reading off his own lyrics that he is not allowed to fear may never be heard. but that's okay, it's okay because youngjae doesn't have to write personal things. it's okay because youngjae can write about pretty girls who drink thai tea, he can write about fake love, fill the page up with cursive words -the kind of words that most definitely don't showcase flattering egos and unhealthy relationships. it's okay because all youngjae needs to worry about is being small and making sure his voice reaches the back row. it's okay, youngjae promises. 

when you ask what home is he'll point to his heart even if he doesn't believe it himself. 

his much needed silence however, is interrupted by a chime of the bell echoing throughout the empty studio. he hears a playful screech followed by a round about of laughter. his heart warms at the comforting sound of happiness, it reminds him of back home, when things were simpler and he was able to sleep easy at night. 

“hyung! stop, jinyoung-ah, stop," the cheerful voice is swallowed by a fit of childish giggles bubbling in the air. 

"i will kill yugyeomie," a playful voice shouts, earning another chorus of laughter. youngjae hears a slap, followed by yelps of mock fear. 

it's only then when youngjae realizes he's still playing the piano, his fingers grazing gently against the polished keys that feel soft against his rough hands. the familiar sound that pumps out into the air keeps youngjae sane. when his tides are too high and the moon just won't stay where he needs it. the calling of the music youngjae can make with his very own hands is what keeps his water at bay, if it weren't for the music? he figures he'd all dried up or flooding streets.

“you guys, be quiet for three seconds. i think i hear someone.' a stern voice says seriously, youngjae gulps stopping his fingers that shake while hovering above the piano. 

"hyung! it's coming from the studio!" someone says, voice filled with excitement. 

“oh my god! you guys, what if it's a ghost?  what if it's a murderer? i don't want to die, my hair looks too good today. seriously, look at these little cu-" 

"christ, bambam be quiet, there isn't a ghost!"

"clearly you are having no self esteem issues, seriously bambam? your hair, that's what you're worried about?" a new voice speaks.

"hyung! it looks so good though!" 

youngjae chuckles, he can only imagine loving himself that much. he listens to the bickering continue, sighing at the memory of all his friends back home. he thinks of his best friend beomseok. one of his favorite memories being when they went to the cinema, sneaking into movies they didn't pay for. shrieking with laughter watching comedies filled with abundances of dark humor. beomseok didn't like the idea of youngjae leaving to train, he didn't think it would work out. he spoke in angry, hushed whispers, insisting youngjae shouldn't leave home- that he would hate it, that he wouldn't make it. no matter how hard he tried. sometimes he wished he would've listened. 

he thinks about chinsun, her dark brown hair that framed her small face. rounded cheeks that burnt red whenever she was out for too long, the freckles that sprinkled across her nose in all the right places. she was the sweetest girl he'd ever met, together they went for long walks in the park, sometimes in a comfortable silence or sometimes in a booming conversation. whatever it was, youngjae always felt safe with her. when he told her about leaving to train, she smiled for him with tears in her eyes. warming his heart, she was the only one who truly believed in youngjae, the only one who didn't wish him luck when he left because she knew he didn't need it. she always knew youngjae was enough on his own, filled to the brim with talent and lovely words. things had always run deep between the two, to say youngjae was a little in love with her is an understatement. 

"all of you shutup, just stay here." 

youngjae's breath hitched as the door knob turned, revealing a tall man wearing an all black outfit with big brown eyes. 

“who are you?” he asks without skipping a beat, making youngjae yelp internally.

“i’m choi youngjae, a trainee” comes a shaky reply from the red cheeked boy. 

“im jaebum, leader of a new group.” the clearly older boy replies, looking youngjae up and down as he hums. it was evident youngjae hadn’t slept in what appeared to be weeks, the boy was beautiful no doubt, but his forehead was shining with sweat and purple bags laid underneath his eyes. his clothes were loosely fit, which made jaebum’s eyes go big all over again, he didn’t know this boy but his state reminded him too much of jackson a year ago. youngjae kept his eyes cast down, jaebum sighed before speaking again.

“youngjae-ah, when was the last time you ate something?” 

the smaller boy’s face paled, he opened his mouth but nothing but stutters passed through his lips. 

“that’s what i thought, youngjae would you like to come and eat with me and the boys?” 

youngjae found himself hesitantly nodding, he figured if someone from an actual group said he could eat, he’d be allowed to right? (baby steps, it takes baby steps.) jaebum smiled warmly, placing his hand on the small of youngjae’s back, guiding him out of the chair. the younger boys heart was bursting, he wished to debut in a group with a leader as kind as jaebum had been, he really wanted that, he needed it.

(little did he know)

**Author's Note:**

> 800-931-2237


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